For a Better Tomorrow
by Remembering Ravens
Summary: Collab with cavtennis6. Time Travel AU. / "Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster..." - Friedrich Nietzsche. / The road to hell is paved with good intensions. Too bad Cloud has to learn that the hard way.
1. Prologue: Prelude to a Herald

**Blanket Disclaimer:** We do not, and never will, own these characters or the Final Fantasy franchise. Remembering Ravens _does _own a damaged copy of FF7 though, that she will never be able to play again *sob*.

**Blanket Warnings:** Spoilers here, spoilers there, oh look: spoilers everywhere! Hmm...let's see...blood and gore, lots of it; language or lack thereof; psychological trauma, _oh_ the trauma; and that's pretty much it. For now the fic's pretty much gen with perhaps a pinch of Zerith; but that could change. May have Hetero- or Homosexual relationships, then again it may not. You've been warned. There is also a strong compelling argument made towards the presence of an unreliable narrator (so believe at your own risk). Oh! In case you missed it in the summary, this fic is a Time Travel AU. Overdone, yes; but it's practically a _must_ for any FF7 fanfic writer. A rite of passage, you might say.

**Note: **There are a lot of references to the FF7 compilation in this chapter. If you're up to it, see if you can find them all and from which game/movie they're from. Also, I hope you can forgive us for all the _angst _in this chapter. However, I'm sure that you'd agree with us when we say: that if _you_ were in a similar type of situation to that of which we placed Cloud in, you'd understand. Don't worry though, the ass kicking starts the next chapter~

**Song(s) listened to while writing: **_Runaway _by (the) Yeah Yeah Yeahs; _Lonely Day _by System of a Down; _Summertime Sadness_ by Lana Del Rey.

* * *

**Prologue: Prelude to a Herald**

_"Past is Prologue." ~ William Shakespeare_

* * *

Green. All of his nightmares, all of his failures, all of his problems were tainted with the color green. Cloud was sick of it. He couldn't even sleep at night, without seeing that damn color. Not that he was getting much sleep at all. The world ending kind of made that difficult. However, when he did slumber, Cloud's dreams were constantly plagued by the eyes of those he had loved, those he had lost. Those he had killed.

Cloud gazed out into the warm night air, watching the fires rage in the distance, painting the ground a deep blood red. As the moon was hidden behind of suffocating blanket of ash and smoke, Cloud was grateful for the light the flames granted. The only thing worse than nothingness, was the color green. Or – Gaia forbid – a green oblivion. He shuddered at the thought.

He stood and quickly gathered his belongings; if he sat around any longer he'd go crazy. Hefting his absurdly large sword over his shoulder, the blond walked. Hours passed and soon enough the flames in the distance we're beyond even Cloud's line of sight. The world was dark; his bright blue eyes, laced with traces of green, were the only light for miles. He felt like the last thing alive on this desolate rock.

"_You're never really alone," _a low baritone growled thoughtfully. "_There's always companionship to be found, if you seek it." _The voice sounded different than he last recalled. Then again, this voice wasn't broken up by the static of an old radio as it screamed a war cry for the very last time. A cry that signaled the loss of yet another dear friend.

Minerva, he'd do anything not to be alone.

The swordsman fell to his knees, eyes burning. He couldn't do this any longer.

"_You're gonna give up and die, is that it?"_ This voice was different; husky, feminine. Accusing. Cloud closed his eyes. Eyes the color of wine spread wide as they fell into the molten pit below appeared at the forefront of his mind, replaying with a cruel clarity across the dark screen of his eyelids. He remembered listening to the screams echoing off the chasm to hell, as the owner of those eyes burned below, her last moments spent writhing in agony as Gaia consumed her whole.

He choked, his now opened eyes flashing bright with emotion. Cloud parted his lips, to call out for Nanaki or Tifa, but quickly clamped his mouth shut. In any case, there was no point in wasting his breath calling out to people who couldn't hear him. He wasn't sure he could stand this silence anymore. Its pervasive reach was doing strange things to his head. Cloud just wanted things to end already.

_"You can't give up now! There ain't no getting off of this train once it's rolling!"_

The blond chuckled at that. Damn, Barret and his train metaphors. The large man had shouted – the only way Barret knew best how to communicate (not to say that it didn't work; one couldn't completely ignore someone who was screaming into their ears) – those stupid sayings all the way until his subsequent death. Ironic, considering he died escorting the sheep-like survivors through the wreckage of what once was the Train Graveyard in the slums. At the end of the world, the monsters were just as desperate as the people.

He shook his head, determined for his thoughts not to head in that morbid direction. But… Even after all these years…his friends were still with him, pushing him on, even though they couldn't physically be there. Cloud couldn't let them down, not after everything they'd been through… Shakily getting to his feet, Cloud slowly gathered his bearings. Everything he was doing was for them, that's why he had to find…

What _was_ he trying to find? Civilization? Survivors? Life? _What_?

_Hope_…

Cloud rolled the word around his mouth thoughtfully, the taste saturating his dry tongue. "…Hope…" he whispered, voice rough from disuse.

_"That's right, silly. Hope." _A voice giggled, her tone soft and comforting. He would know this voice anywhere.

_Aerith_.

"I−" Cloud's voice cracked harshly. He loudly cleared his parched throat. "I'm t-trying to find…hope?" Hope was such a funny word; it could mean anything really. It just depended on what the person wished for. At this point, Cloud operationalized hope to be a swift end – even nothingness was preferable to this hell.

_"No, Cloud." _Aerith gently admonished him, her soprano light and airy; the perfect balm to soothe his breaking heart.

"_You _are _hope."_

Him? The embodiment of hope? The man who couldn't save anybody, who utterly failed the people he loved? Hope? Cloud laughed and laughed. And laughed some more. The air seemed to lodge in his lungs, almost choking him in his mirth, but he couldn't stop. It was just too damn funny.

_"Yo! Spikey! What's so damn funny about that?"_ Barret fumed, still seemingly unable to differentiate between 'indoor' and 'outdoor' voices. Cloud ignored them in favor of clutching his aching sides. Oh Gaia, when was the last time he had _truly_ laughed?

_"Hmm…you think he's finally lost it?"_

_"Yuffie!" _Tifa scolded.

_"What?!"_ The Wutaian ninja's normally chipper voice lowered into a sulk. _"It was just a simple question."_ Cloud could almost see the pout he knew adorned her small delicate features, large slanted brown eyes sullen but unrepentant.

Oh, how he missed them.

Cloud did his best, despite the agony that constantly racked his empty stomach and the pain that emanated from his parched throat, to keep on living for them. He had wandered this desolate decaying rock for so long, surviving off the few monsters that still roamed, but…

What was the point of suffering _and_ struggling for people who were no longer around? Who were no longer alive?

The man's laughs quickly made way to dry sobs. He couldn't cry anymore, he'd already used his tears all up. Or all of his close encounters with fire and volcanic emissions damaged his tear ducts. Either way, the results were the same.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, curled up on the ground, metal sword digging into his back. Minutes? Hours? Cloud had long ago lost his ability to keep track of time. However, his sobs eventually subsided to numbness. Instead he just laid there, bright blue eyes content to stare at a sky he could no longer see.

_"Get up, Cloud."_

Frankly, Cloud didn't really want to. Besides, Vincent really wasn't one to talk – the ex-Turk had given up, so why couldn't he? The blond could still see it, still remember it. Vincent saved Shelke, but he didn't even try to save himself. Now the gunman was buried under a ton of rubble in what once known as the dark city of Midgar. Perhaps the planet was simply seeking a retribution for the Deepground incident, regardless of whether they were a member of the guilty party or not. Not that it mattered – dead was dead.

A sensation of smoke whispered across his face. _"Stop moping and get your whiny ass moving, brat!"_ The harsh voice berated him, almost forcing Cloud to move instinctually. Cid's manner hadn't changed at all since passing on into the lifestream; not that Cloud wanted it to. He liked Cid just the way he was: gruff, impatient, and kind (in his own way).

A touch ghosted across the burned skin on his shoulder; pleasantly cool against the pulsing heat. _"C'mon Cloud," _Tifa prodded, coaxing the blond into a sitting position. _"You can't just give up. You have to keep on going, keep on living."_

_"Yeah!" _Yuffie shouted, seemingly recovered from her huff._ "I mean, who's going to remember us if you don't? Someone has to remember, otherwise it was all for nothing." _

Remember? Cloud would never forget them! …But other people would, if there was even anyone left alive at this point. Regardless, he couldn't give up quite yet. He had work to do, people to find, loved ones to remember. _I better stop dilly-dallying and get moving._

Cloud stood, a new strength surging through his limbs. He had a purpose again. Now he just had to fulfill it.

_"Took you long enough," _Cid huffed. "_Even the moon would tire of waiting around for your sorry ass."_

_"Settle down, Cid." _An even baritone soothed and Cloud instantly recognized it as Reeve's. Reeve, Yuffie, and Cid were _safe_. Cloud never knew how they died and he couldn't bring himself to ask. He just knew that they were _dead_. _"Everyone deserves a little down time every once in a while. Cloud deserves it more than most."_

Cloud's lips twitched. _Thanks guys._

And so Cloud wandered. Time passed and slowly but surely, the bond grew weaker. Finding sustenance in the forms of stray monsters from time to time was clearly not enough. The glowing pinpricks of blue light were dulling, fading into the ever-present shadows of this world. His thinning muscles contrasted sharply with the bones that visibly protruded from his form veiled by a thin layer of sickly pale skin. But Cloud didn't care. He didn't mind the fact that he was starving or that his eyesight was steadily failing him. He had his friends and that was all he needed.

Sadly, his body disagreed with him.

One day Cloud simply fell and couldn't get back up. He frowned at his legs – or where he thought they were – in disgust, ashamed at his own weakness. The blond tried again, this time putting all of his energy into it. But it was to no avail. The swordsman would never take another step in that world again.

Instead he lay there, unable to see anything outside his personal world of nothingness, blankly staring at the sky, his once bright cerulean eyes glazed with a milky film. He awaited the usual chatter that would assail him, but there was nothing, not even a peep. It was strange. Normally, Yuffie would be there to talk his ear off or Barret would give him a headache with his booming voice. Instead, Cloud was greeted with silence.

Years ago, Cloud would have loved to be left to dwell quietly in his solitude. Now he hated it with a passion. Silence meant being alone. And Cloud didn't want to be left alone. He wanted– no, _needed_ his friends in a way he never thought he could. They were necessary to his very survival; like the air, laced with the taint of rotten eggs, that he breathed every day.

Cloud cleared his throat. "…G-guys?"

No response.

"…Anybody?"

Silence still reigned, almost mocking Cloud's attempts to overthrow it.

There was no Tifa there to put up with the swordsman's sullenness with good cheer or Yuffie to act out in all her usual quirkiness. No Cid and Barret to share a round with at Tifa's bar. No Nanaki or Reeve to guide the group with a gentle touch or helpful information. There was no Vincent to shadow Cloud's movements out of concern. No Aerith to comfort the blond as he floundered around in the dark.

No one. Cloud was well and truly alone.

He attempted to move, but found his body unresponsive. Sighing, he gave up and simply waited. What exactly he was waiting for, he had no idea – but it was better than nothing.

How long he lay there, the blond didn't know. He drifted in and out of sleep for what could have been simply _minutes_ or _days_. A soft scuffling noise alerted him to the approaching visitor. Idly, the swordsman wondered if it was a monster or a human. Eventually, he felt something warm prod at his neck. Cloud wanted to open his eyes, but found himself unable to pry his eyelids apart.

The blond parted his lips, as if to speak, but felt something apply a gentle pressure to his lips, as if to shush him. However, Cloud would not be quieted; he was confused and wanted answers. "…W-who…?"

A snort shattered the heavy silence. "You're not one to do as you're told, are you?" The voice was masculine, a smooth tenor. _A human_. Cloud rolled the thought around his head, tasting the word in his sandpaper mouth. Amazing; there really were people still around. Cloud wasn't as alone as he thought he was.

The blond felt the man stand, listening to the dust the stranger's feet kicked up. "Hmm, an odd choice for _her_… Oh well. That'll just make things more interesting in the long run." Cloud _felt _the man eye him, tone thoughtful.

"W-what…do you…want?" Cloud croaked, his cracked lips graced by the beautiful moisture of his blood.

The stranger laughed. "Why, I seek for what we all search for: the gift of the goddess."

Cloud let his mouth close. The man was making no sense and Cloud was too tired to care anymore. He just wanted to fall into the tempting oblivion of sleep and stay there.

A foot lightly nudged his side, startling the blond into wakefulness. "We'll be having none of that now. There's too much to do and so little _time._"

Cloud wanted to ask what he meant by that, but the stranger interrupted him. "Ah, looks like you've arrived just in time, my friend." Cloud heard another set of footsteps approach, but was more distracted by the pure _energy_ that crackled in the atmosphere. His nose stung from the heady scent of mako, the very lifeblood the planet. How he _hated _that smell.

Cloud's body greeted the mako like one would an old friend, happily embracing the _hum_ that filled his body. His mind however, gagged at the too-familiar sensation. He felt hands, both small and large, ghost across his shoulders and arms, but there was one set in particular that caught his attention. Strong and calloused, the hand gripped his shoulder tightly before removing itself.

_"Good luck, Cloud."_

The blond cried out at the voice, the voice that he had long given up on ever hearing again. The voice of his best friend.

_Zack?_

A flash of pain lanced through Cloud's head, numbing his limbs and constricting his lungs. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. A roar drowned out everything, silencing all but a single voice.

"Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return. To become the dew that quenches the land. To spare the sands, the seas, the skies; I offer thee…this silent sacrifice."

Change was coming. Morosely, Cloud noted that change was _green_.

Sadly, unbeknownst to Cloud, the planet miscalculated. Minerva screwed up. And this time, there would be no second chances.


	2. Chapter 1: Staring into the Abyss

**Note: **Hmm, if you're reading this chapter than that means you've made it through the first hurdle. Congratulations! Frankly, we're surprised you did. That prologue…wasn't one of our finer moments. To be fair though, Remembering Ravens is better at action (and downright horrible at portraying emotions and, heaven forbid, _feelings _on paper) and cavtennis6 has an aptitude for humor and romantic comedies (and avoids involving herself in anything angsty and tragic)…yeah. We're not sure what we're doing either. Well, anyways thanks for reading! We really appreciate all of the alerts, favorites, and reviews! Hope you enjoy.

**P.S.** Sorry for the short chapter (the shortest chapter either of us have ever written for a multi-chap story), but this was the best place to cut it off. On the plus side, half of the next chapter is already written! Which means a timely update next time (unless cavtennis6 has another month like the last one)...

**Song(s) listened to while writing: **_Castle of Glass _by Linkin Park (this is so Cloud's theme song for this fic); _Awake and Alive_ by Skillet;_ Rusted from the Rain_ by Billy Talent.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Staring Into the Abyss**

_"…If you stare into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

Cloud blinked, eyes burning from the smoke and ash that littered the breeze. That didn't bother him – he was used to it. What did bother him was the light that emanated from this world, the _sunlight_ that perforated the layer of black clouds that permeated the sky. It was strange. The sun's rays hadn't touched the surface world in _years_. He was sure that, even if he couldn't _see_ it, he would've _felt_ the warm rays on his skin. So it was safe to assume that Cloud was slightly confused.

The blond stood, legs shaking from the strain. Gaia, his head hurt; a steady pain pulsating from the base of his skull. He clenched his hands and flinched. He slowly shifted the appendages so he could see them, noting the singed shredded gloves and eyeing the lack of scars that _should_ have crisscrossed his fingers. Scratch that – he was _very_ confused. The movement jostled the itchy material that lightly covered his chest. Blue eyes – devoid of that _hated_ color – looked down. The fair-haired man's mouth popped open, a roaring noise enveloping his senses. The clothes…were those of an infantryman's uniform. His fingers pulled at the blue fabric in disbelief. _How could this be?_

Eyes darting up, he cautiously eyed his surroundings. Fire. Cloud watched the red tongues of flames greedily devour wooden beams and painted walls. The ground was scorched a deep ebony and littered with a fine coat of ash. _Where am I? _He attempted to take a step forward and nearly tripped over a raised mound. Blue eyes narrowed in concentration. _No, not a mound…it looks like…_

The blond knelt, a poorly protected hand reaching towards the charred shape. His fingers combed through what appeared to be strands of hair – blond. He flipped the figure over and stared into wide blue eyes, a similar color to his own. The figure was female. She appeared to be in her middle to latter thirties, probably some kid's mother or a man's wife. Not that it mattered now. Dead was dead. And this woman looked like she'd been to hell and back, with stark burns twining up her back and around her legs, and a bloody gash running horizontally across her throat. Judging from the clean cut, it had been delivered by a bladed weapon – probably a sword. Cloud idly ran his thumb across her soot-covered cheek. _She looks…familiar. I wonder–_

A scream shattered him from his reverie, echoing off the steep rocky cliffs and the burning shells of what appeared to be homes. He knew that scream, knew that voice. _Tifa_. Not bothering to waste any more time on inane matters, Cloud was off. The scenery rushed by in a whitish-brown blur. He recognized this path, this mountain, but his mind seemed to be unable to place it, unable to connect the dots – if there were any to even connect in the first place.

Breathing heavily – that was weird; he's ran faster than this, for far longer, and hadn't even been winded – he approached the looming metal sore that stuck out awkwardly out of the mountainside and froze.

_No_, his mind screamed at him. _This can't be possible._ He would know this structure anywhere, any day, any time– Blue eyes widened as Cloud looked at the Nibelheim reactor with something akin to dawning horror. His body begged him to bolt, to get the hell out of dodge, but…Tifa's scream. He was sure that she was in there. No. He _knew_ that she was in there; he could feel it in the very depths of his soul. She was there, and he would never abandon her. Cloud couldn't, wouldn't fail her twice.

Forcing his quivering muscles to cooperate, he entered into the mouth of hell.

The room was dark, illuminated only through the dull musty red glow emitted from the lights lining the walkway. Some pipes leaked an unknown liquid lazily overhead– judging by the putrid yellow color, Cloud assumed that it was dangerous and best given a wide berth. He blinked rapidly, eyes quickly adjusting to the dim lighting. The familiar large metal tubs still sat in four neat little rows perpendicular to the main walkway; their eerily glowing portholes granting a view that was only a scratch on the surface of the atrocities that were committed here; atrocities that the Shinra Electric Power Company had knowingly supported. _Damn them._

Stubbornly, Cloud shifted his gaze away from the humans-turned-monsters and instead focused on the reason why he had entered this hellhole in the first place. Sprawled out limply across the metal ramp, Tifa lay there. Her white shirt was ripped open across her breasts and torso, blood staining the fabric and clashing harshly against her worryingly pale skin. Cloud rushed over to her, cradling her body against his chest. _Tifa… _He mechanically checked her pulse, praying to Gaia that she was still alive.

Cloud sighed in relief as he felt the steady rhythm of her heartbeats against the pads of his fingers. He gently lowered her to the ground, and searched his pockets for one of his materia, preferably his mastered Restore or Full Cure. His fingers met nothing. Cloud was again assaulted by the feeling of wrongness. Dazedly, he took another glance at the wound and was surprised to find that it had already been healed. The wound was simply a ropy scar now; a sight he was familiar with, having oft seen the tip of it peering out from under the hem of her midriff-baring attire.

A deafening crash of concrete and metal echoed throughout the building. Cloud swiftly stood and pivoted, automatically reaching for the blade, his beloved Fusion sword, that was normally strapped on his back, only to grasp at thin air. Growling in frustration, his blue eyes thoroughly scanned the area, in search of the ruckus. What he saw left him gasping and questioning what was left of his sanity.

There, piled on top of a mess of blood and debris, lay Zack Fair; the _deceased_ Soldier First class. Cloud just stared; unable to move, unable to think. Unable to do anything at all. What the hell was going on?

The blond may not have had a fancy education with a decorated piece of paper stating his genius like Reeve did, but he was pretty sure that the dead did not come back to life. Well, except in the case of– Cloud immediately cut off that line of reasoning, not liking where that train of thought led to. Instead he forced his immobile body to move, his feet dragging with an almost innate reluctance – was this a dream, a nightmare? Either way, Cloud wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. When he reached the unconscious Soldier, he bent down and hesitantly reached a hand out towards the man's bicep. His fingertips pressed into the solid warmth, feeling the slick blood that coated the tanned skin. _This is...real... _

Cloud drank in Zack's appearance, filling in the gaps that littered his memory. In the back of his mind, he wondered if the violet-blue eyes were the same as he recalled? The spiky black hair was a bit less...spiky, but it was still similar enough to what he remembered to make a proper identification. Zack's face was both foreign and familiar; unlike Tifa's, whose face brought both comfort and anguish. Gaia, when was the last time Cloud had even seen the man's _face_? A decade ago? Two? The blond couldn't help but laugh. What kind of person forgot what his supposed best friend's face looked like?

A groan brought his attention back to the present, as the Soldier stirred under his touch. Cloud frowned, angry at his own ineptitude and spiraling attention span. His thoughts were chaotic, untamed. A proper Soldier would order them; a proper _hero_ wouldn't even have to.

Cloud took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and prioritized. Zack was here, bleeding out on the stairs; something had to have made that happen, probably the same thing that had attacked Tifa. A feeling of unease drifted though his core; all of this was too familiar, almost reminiscent of... Cloud growled in frustration. Why couldn't he remember? The reactor, Tifa, Zack...there was something about that combination that set his alarms off. There was something...missing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

Well, whatever it was, it would have to wait. Regardless of all the unanswered questions and confusion this day had brought forth, there was one thing that hadn't and would never change: nobody was allowed to hurt his friends and live. Period. Cloud stood, ignoring the lightheadedness that suddenly plagued him, and walked up the stairs. He paused momentarily at the jagged hole in the wall, allowing his vision to adjust to the bright blue light, before entering.

In hindsight, he would regret ever stepping foot into that cursed place.


End file.
